


Hot Nerd Alert, Part Three

by alisvolatpropiis



Series: Hot Nerd Alert [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Human, Anal Fingering, Baseball Player Derek, Body Worship, Bottom Derek, Bottom Stiles Stilinski, Derek Feels, Dirty Talk, Dorks in Love, First Time, Flip Fuck, Fluff and Smut, Insecure Stiles, Inspired by Fanart, Jock Derek, M/M, Nerd Stiles, POV Derek, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Public Masturbation, Sexting, Snapchat, Snapchat Sex, Top Derek, Top Stiles Stilinski, Versatile Drek, Versatile Stiles Stilinski
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-09
Updated: 2014-08-09
Packaged: 2018-02-12 10:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2105733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alisvolatpropiis/pseuds/alisvolatpropiis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After being nearly destroyed by Stiles’ mouth in the locker room, Derek was dying to get fucked by him, was aching for his pretty cock to fulfill his tongue’s promise. But Stiles spread out beneath him like this, writhing on his fingers, all jagged moans and hitching breaths, pleading for his dick – this is just as good, maybe even better.</p><p>___</p><p>Part Three of <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/series/135117">Hot Nerd Alert</a>, inspired by the this delightful <a href="http://prettiestalpha.tumblr.com/post/93016318453/derek-send-to-danny-mahealani-stiles-send-to">fanart</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Nerd Alert, Part Three

**Author's Note:**

> More smutty, nerdy fun for our boys!
> 
> I may have gotten a little carried with the sexytime feels here...but if I can't be self-indulgent here then where can I, yes? :)
> 
> Hoechlin-sized hugs to all you lovely people! xoxo

Derek moans softly as his hands find the waistband of his basketball shorts slung low on Stiles’ hips, sliding them under the fabric to grip at his ass, leaning in to kiss him hungrily. He barely made it through dinner without crawling over the table and fucking him senseless right there in In-N-Out, body still buzzing with heat from the mind-blowing orgasm Stiles had wrung from him in the locker room.

He could tell from the way Stiles kissed and the confident, body-melting handjobs he’s given that he would be an enthusiastic, generous, talented lover. But that rim job – good god, Stiles’ hot wet mouth, his long fingers pulling on the jock, the way he licked the come from his cock, eyes dark and hungry.

Hot Nerd, indeed. 

They’re back at Derek’s place now and he’s pushing Stiles into his bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him. He had warned Danny that he might want to make himself scarce, and he now really hopes he takes his advice. He's not going to hold back tonight, and Danny might be responsible for them finally getting together (for which Derek will be eternally grateful) but he’s too intent on absolutely wrecking Stiles to worry about being too loud. 

Stiles makes this sweet little sound, part-laughter, part-disbelief, reaching a hand up to curl in Derek’s hair as the shorts fall easily, along with his boxer briefs, both puddling around his feet. Derek breaks the kiss long enough to get his t-shirt off of him too, finds his mouth again for one more quick kiss as he walks him back, lifting him by the waist to toss him, naked and hard, onto his unmade bed.

“Oh my god,” Stiles groans, rocking his hips up. “I love how strong you are, that you can toss me around, even though it’s such a damn cliché.”

“Says the guy who just made me keep my jock strap on while he ate me out in a locker room,” Derek quips back, eyes locked on Stiles’ cock, long and cut and pretty, reaching down to pull off Stiles’ socks, lifting one foot up to kiss.

“Didn’t hear you complaining, sport.” 

Derek laughs into the arch of his foot, nibbles a bit, making him squirm. He’s standing at the foot of the bed, eager to get his hands and body all over him but he’s a little too dazed to move at the moment, stunned by the extraordinary, dazzling beauty of naked Stiles. The room is dark but there’s just enough moonlight shining through the window to let him see every delightful line of his trim body, shoulders broader than they seem in his sweater vests, sinewy and lithe, pale skin dotted with more of those mouthwatering beauty marks.

He’s so lovely it’s hard to breathe.

Still fully clothed, Derek kicks off his shoes, eyes greedily drinking him up, getting a little dizzy. He’s already hard as a rock, straining painfully against his tight jeans.

“Stop staring,” Stiles says after a minute, voice soft, vulnerable, teasing all gone. He throws an arm over his eyes too, chest flushing.

“Never,” Derek says, lips tracing up the curve of his foot to mouth at his ankle. He wants to take it slow so he can marvel at the flex and spasm of Stiles’ stomach as he rocks his hips, at the way he bites at his bottom lip when Derek puts his hands on him, at how his eyes are so wide and bright it almost hurts to look at them. 

Stiles pulls his arm away from his face in a pitiful attempt to glare at Derek while he licks up his calf. “Ugh, I don’t know if it’s better or worse that you’re not naked too right now.” 

“What are you talking about,” he asks, dropping his leg so he can pull his shirt over his head, looking to Stiles’ eyes for the hunger he knows he’ll see there.

“Nothing…just get naked and come ‘ere, okay?”

Derek finishes stripping, trying to tease out the hint of anxiety he hears in Stiles’ voice. He’s fairly certain he’s not nervous about having sex, the evening’s earlier activities suggesting that he’s more than comfortable. But there’s definitely something bothering him, and that simply won’t do.

He crawls next to him on the bed, lying on his side to face him, pulling him close. “What’s wrong,” he asks softly, pressing soft kisses to his shoulder.

Stiles sighs, fingers running absently on Derek’s arm where it’s slung across his waist. “It’s nothing, really, just…I’m not really used to being looked at…the way you look at me. It’s weird for me, being naked and…watched. I guess I just don’t understand why.”

“Why I want to look at you?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Because you’re beautiful, and incredibly sexy.”

Stiles snorts softly. “Yeah, okay.”

“You don’t believe me.”

“I believe that you have a nerd kink, but I don’t believe – “

“Stiles.”

“Derek.”

“I don’t have a nerd kink.”

He twists his neck to look him in the eye, face incredulous. “You don't,” he asks, eyebrow raised in that look of suspicion that Derek is quite familiar with.

“Nope. You’re my first nerd.” Derek’s not really sure if that’s the right thing to say, but he’s got to say something, anything to get that line of worry off his brow.

“You don’t have a thing for pale skinny guys in sweaters and glasses? I’m not going to find tons of nerd twink porn on your laptop?”

Derek laughs into his shoulder. “No, you won’t. Why, will I find tons of jockstrap athlete porn on yours?”

“Hey, we’re talking about you here, big guy. You really don’t have a nerd kink?”

“Not particularly.”

“So why are you with me?”

“Did you miss the part about how you’re beautiful and sexy?”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “Maybe in a nerd way, but you’re _you_ and I’m me.” He waves vaguely between their bodies, as if the proof of his insecurity were obvious. “You were in Sports Illustrated for christsake, and your last boyfriend looks like a model. So, yeah, I know we just showered together and everything, but…you standing there staring at me like that…it just hit me, you know? How perfect you are and how…average I am.”

Derek throws a leg over his hips and straddles him, sitting up so he can stare down into those big brown eyes. He waits for Stiles to meet his gaze before he reaches up to follow the curve of his jaw with one hand, smiling at the sharp sting of stubble there.

Stuttering, rapid words fill his mind, his heart, aching to get out, to let Stiles know just how much he’s wanted. He stays silent though, breathing a little heavier than normal, heart racing at the raw, open vulnerability he sees in his face, awed that Stiles trusts him enough to let him see his fragility. It splits him open, makes him want to spill his heart out in a way he’s never felt before and make the love confession that’s been on the tip of his tongue since their first kiss, maybe even before.

He doesn’t want Stiles to think that he’s just saying it to make him feel better, so he decides to show him instead, to let his body do the talking.

He leans over to place the softest of kisses on his fluttering eyelids. _I dream about your eyes_. 

Reaches down to intertwine their fingers, kissing the back of his strong, big hand. _And your hands, all the ways I know they can undo me_.

Licks a slow, teasing line across his bitten lips, tongue darting in for a moment. _Your mouth devastates me._

Fingers dance over the constellation of moles on his cheek, brushing down to tease the sensitive skin of his neck. _I want to touch and taste every last inch of you_.                                                 

Knuckles run gently down his sides, dipping in the shallow hollows of his ribs, hands curving around to his back. _I’m dying to learn everything I can about your body, all the ways I can make you feel good.  
_

Teeth scraping on his collarbone before he tucks his head under his arm, nuzzling into his armpit, breathing him in before licking at the coarse dark hair there. _I want to memorize you._

Lips pulling a pert, pink nipple and sucking, smiling when Stiles’ hips buck up. _I want to drink you up and keep you inside of me forever._

Derek reaches down and under him to clutch at his ass, Stiles gasping a bit, hitching his hips again, brushing their wet cocks together. He leaves another long line of wet, slow kisses up his neck and into his hair, breathing him in deep, thrusting his hips so Stiles can feel just how hard he is. He finds his mouth again, kisses him slowly but urgently, trying to make him understand just how perfect he is with each swirling press of his tongue. Stiles kisses him back just as earnestly, the tension easing from him, hips rising now in steady little ruts.

“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” Derek whispers into his neck, voice shaking, needing him to know it, to feel it. The lobe of his ear is soft and tender between his teeth, Stiles’ breath catching in a hissing moan when he bites down softly. 

The words tumble out of him then, soft and needful, his chest aching and his eyes burning with it. “You’re ravishing,” he tells him with a smile, moving down his body to rub his beard against his ribs. “Stunning. Exquisite. Captivating.” He’s utterly sincere, but worried that Stiles might try to laugh it off. He doesn’t though, just twists his hands in Derek’s hair, moving them down to paw at his shoulders. Derek moans against his skin, chest aching, starting to feel as overwhelmed as Stiles looks.

“Oh my god,” he croaks, voice shaky. “Derek, please.”

“What do you want, love?”

“You,” Stiles whines, broken and sweet. “I just want you.”

Derek exhales loudly against the soft little patch of hair on his sternum. “You have me. You’ll always have me.” 

**~*~**

Derek didn’t know it could be like this.

Didn’t know that it was possible to feel like he’s coming apart while being soldered together, the taste and feel and sight and sound of Stiles filling in cracks and fissures in his heart he didn’t even know were there.

He didn’t know what it would do to him, to watch Stiles’ face as he opens him slowly with lube-slicked fingers, his long slender legs resting on his shoulders, his mouth worrying a mark into the inside of his knee. Or the sound Stiles makes when Derek shifts on the bed to lean over him, licking the path of dark hair below his navel down to his cock, sucking softly at the wet tip as he slides in a third finger, a darling little noise somewhere between whining and purring.

After being nearly destroyed by Stiles’ mouth in the locker room, Derek was dying to get fucked by him, was aching for his pretty cock to fulfill his tongue’s promise. But Stiles spread out beneath him like this, writhing on his fingers, all jagged moans and hitching breaths, pleading for his dick – this is just as good, maybe even better.

But then Stiles reaches up, hangs off his neck to kiss him likes he’s desperate for it. “Lube,” he exhales hotly against his mouth. “I want to get you ready too.”

No, _this_ is better. 

When Derek’s good and open too – Stiles' breath hot and wet against his thighs as his deft fingers stretch him slowly through the burn – they both rise to their knees, facing each other in the middle of the bed, hands entwined and languidly twisting around their slick cocks, sliding them together.

“Should we arm wrestle to see who goes first,” Derek asks, nibbling at Stiles’ lower lip, plump and red with beard burn.

“Oh my god, you are such a _nerd_ ,” Stiles laughs, biting back just as sweetly.

Derek smiles, pulls their hands away from their cocks. “A hot nerd?”

“The hottest fucking nerd.” Stiles kisses him again, intense and fevered. 

“Stiles,” he says, breaking the kiss. 

“Derek.”

“I think I’m falling in love with you.” It feels good to say it, feels right. 

Stiles’ answering smile is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen, probably ever will see, has a bit of that same mischievous smirk that always flits across his face when he’s about to start an argument with him in class. “I _know_ I’m falling in love with you.”

 **~*~**

Stiles’ mole-speckled back sheened with sweat is the most astonishingly erotic thing Derek’s ever seen, so gorgeous and unbelievably sexy he has to do more than just watch it, needs to taste it.

He stills his long, slow thrusts, pulling out of Stiles until his head catches on his tight ring of muscle before plunging back in hard, burying himself as deep as he can, eyes rolling back, Stiles groaning loud and long. Derek pulls him up from all fours so he’s just on his knees, tucking him in close, the backs of his thighs nestling snugly between his own, squeezing around him. He rocks his hips in shallow thrusts and settles his arms around Stiles’ waist, leaning forward to lick between his shoulder blades, salty-sweet sweat exploding across his tongue.

Derek’s not sure how long they’ve been at it, any sense of time or space or anything that isn’t _Stiles_ ceasing to matter. He’s living and dying with every aching moan and pleading gasp, each twitch and roll of Stiles’ sublime hips, each molten slide of his cock into his hot, tight hole.

He’s left an impressive patch of beard burn on his back when Stiles reaches back and seizes him by the neck, squeezing hard, bucking his hips forward hard enough that Derek slides out of him completely, making him gasp at the loss.

“Sorry,” Stiles mutters, panting. “But if you keep fucking me like that I’m going to come, and I want to fuck you so bad, wanna come inside of you.”

Derek doesn’t recognize the sound he makes, part-moan, part-laugh, all bubbling love for this beautiful, perfect man. “How do you want me,” he purrs into his sweat-damp hair.

“I want to see your face,” Stiles answers softly, like he’s embarrassed about it.

Derek spins him around so they’re face to face again, smiling as he remembers how much Stiles liked it when he used his greater strength to manhandle him a bit. “I love you, too,” he says, cupping his jaw.

~*~

Stiles settles back against the headboard, buttressed by pillows, legs splayed just a bit as Derek straddles him after adding more lube to his stretched hole. He’s twitching with eagerness to get Stiles inside of him, cock straining and leaking.

“This okay,” he whispers, reaching down to line him up.

“Fuck yes, Derek, please.”

It’s the _please_ that does it, that makes Derek sink down on him quickly, maybe too quickly, but he just arches into the burning stretch, the small sting of pain jolting into simmering buzzes of pleasure as Stiles’ licks sloppily at his nipple, taking it between his lips as it tightens, sucking eagerly, fingers twisting and pulling at his chest hair when Derek gets fully seated.

He can’t be languorous and teasing anymore, is burning too much, is too supremely, perfectly full to do anything but seek more, hips rutting hard and fast as Stiles buries his face in his damp chest, mouth gnawing at him, hands pawing at his ass, knuckles pressing against where they’re joined.

Derek reaches up to grab at the wooden railings of his headboard, needing more leverage to ride him harder, feel him deeper. Stiles pulls away from him then, a thin rope of spit stringing from his mouth to Derek’s skin. He flops down against the pillows, mouth agape in a dazed smile, eyes blown wide and dark. 

“Fuck, look at you,” he whispers, awed. Derek whines a little bit and keeps riding him with wild abandon, cock bouncing like crazy, flushed red and throbbing, and fuck, he’s never come untouched before but he’s about to, especially with the way Stiles is pressing his thumbs into the hollows of his hips, using Derek’s muscled core for his own leverage to buck up into him.

Their eyes meet, Derek riveted by the look of wonderment and love there as surely as he is by his rutting dick. Stiles arches his back, bowing beautifully, groaning loud enough to drown out the sound of the headboard knocking hard and steady against the wall.

Stiles is biting his lip like he does when he’s holding back a torrent of manic _Stiles_ , and Derek is so fucking far gone on the man he wants to hear it as he comes. “Talk to me,” he pants, not breaking the rhythm of his snapping hips. “Tell me what –"

“Fuck, Derek, oh my god.” The words tumble out of his mouth, hands squeezing harder around his hips. “I love you so much, you’re so fucking… _perfect_ …you feel so good, so _hot_ and _tight_ …goddamn, Derek, I knew when I had my tongue in your ass you’d feel this good around my cock.”

“ _Stiles._ ” It hits him all at once, a wild, quaking explosion of pleasure that erupts from deep within him where Stiles is rocking into his prostate hard and fast. It feels like his whole body is dissolving with the melting heat of it, cock pulsing wildly, covering Stiles’ flushed chest in heavy white ribbons.

He clenches hard around him and then Stiles is coming too, nails digging into his skin, moan echoing through the room as he empties himself inside of him. Derek’s still chasing the last flaming tendrils of his orgasm, cock still dribbling sticky white drops, wanting Stiles' throbbing cock to wring every last drop of come from him, wanting his ass to milk every last drop from Stiles. He bears down hard again, vision whiting out as the pleasure crescendos anew, one final burst of come spilling into Stiles’ sweat-filled belly button. Stiles' hands fall to his cock, strong thumb and forefinger squeezing and twisting around his sensitive tip, teasing out a few more sticky beads and putting his fingers to his lips, licking greedily. **  
**

When Derek is more aware of himself again, Stiles is half underneath him, come-covered torso twisted to the side a bit, probably so he can breathe, because Derek seems to have collapsed fully on to him, judging by how is own chest is tacky with come too.

“You still with me, big guy,” Stiles mumbles, squirming and writhing down the bed, face pressed against Derek’s chest, nuzzling between his pecs.

“Always,” he answers, pressing a hard kiss into his hair. 

**~*~**

A couple of glorious sex-soaked weeks later, Derek goes to Dr. Morrell’s office hours to talk about his final paper on _Geek Love_ and to let her know that he'll be missing a couple of days of class for a preseason tournament in Eugene.

“Derek,” she calls out as he’s on his way out. “I wanted to let you know that I’m glad you and Stiles have seemed to…come to an understanding?” She says it like she knows _exactly_ what kind of understanding they’ve come to, like she’s trying to hide how entertained she is by the whole thing.

“Yeah,” Derek answers, smiling broadly. “We’ve worked some things out.”

**~*~**

Stiles drives him to campus to meet the team bus in the early morning the next day, talking nervously the whole way even though he’s yawning and rubbing at his sleepy eyes.

“Stiles, it’s just four days.”

“Yeah, I know…I’m just going to miss you.”

“I’m going to miss you too. Is that all that’s bothering you?” They’re parked in the stadium lot, a little away from the bus and where the other players and coaches are loading luggage and gear.

Stiles unclicks his seat belt and turns toward him. “It’s just, it’s starting, you know? The traveling, your senior season as the most high profile college player in the country. You’re going to be on the road a lot, getting more media attention…getting all kinds of attention.” Stiles sighs heavily, starts talking again before Derek can respond, hands reaching to twist in to Derek’s. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, I do, completely. I just don’t trust other people, you know? And maybe I’m just being a brat because I don’t want to you go away at all, ever, because I’ve gotten used to seeing your ridiculous face everyday, and I like it, okay?” 

Derek smiles when he kisses him, savors the taste of his mouth and the feel of his hands against his jaw. “I love you, too.”

 **~*~**            

Derek falls back heavily across the pillows of the king-sized bed in his solo hotel room, taking advantage of his status on the team for the first time ever by requesting that he not have a roommate on this trip. 

He knows it might make him seem like a bit of an asshole to the other guys, but he’s determined to prove to Stiles that his frequent road trips and the upcoming media attention aren’t going to weaken anything between them, that he has nothing to worry about.

It’s near midnight after a late-afternoon double header. He’d had a great day on the mound and at the plate, feeling more comfortable and confident than he ever has on the field. They had won both games but he had declined going to Isaac's room with the other guys to celebrate, eager to call Stiles.

Before he can call him though, his phone dings with a snapchat alert from him. Derek tucks an arm behind his head and smiles at the selfie. He’s at the library by the looks of it, wide eyes framed by his cute, rectagular glasses, piles of books and highlighted printouts of articles scattered around the table behind him. **why am I writing about Pynchon?**

Derek tugs his shirt off, scoots down on the pillows a bit to get a better angle, and snaps a selfie. He cheeks go a little hot, smiling when he sees the pic. He’s caught himself from the waist up, eyes wide in mock-innocence, biting at his lower lip. He knows exactly the noise Stiles is going to make when he sees it. **looks like you need a study break**

Stiles’ response is immediate, face an exaggerated glare. **Rude. I’m at the library.**

Derek angles his phone further down, snaps his hand sliding under the waistband of his boxer briefs, turns his phone sideways so he can write a longer caption. **gonna suck you off there when I get home**

It takes a little bit longer for Stiles to respond this time, but it’s worth the wait because the snap is a perfectly-angled shot down his sweatered torso, hard cock tenting his khakis. **Fuck you.  
**

Derek slides his underwear down his hips, shoving them down until he can kick them off. He’s hard too, just thinking of Stiles palming his dick through his pants at the library, imagining falling to his knees under the table and taking him into his mouth. He gets the camera angled just right, resting the phone on his sternum so it catches the plane of his abs but is focused on where he’s wrapping a hand around his cock. He holds his thumb down to take a video, squeezing and stroking until his tip is shiny with precome. **Miss you too, babe.  
**

He strokes himself idly while waiting for his reply, hoping to hell that he’s in a secluded enough part of the library for them to finish this the way he wants to.

Stiles’ reply comes in a few minutes, is even better than he could have hope for. A shot of his own hard dick cradled in his hand, splayed out over the open button and zipper of his pants, gray library carpet in the background. **I miss your mouth.** There’s a bit of a shadow across the pic, and he thinks about how Stiles is probably hissing through his teeth as he strokes himself under the table.

He gets up to dig the small bottle of lube out of his suitcase that he packed just for this purpose, slicking up his fingers with one hand and calling Stiles with the other, switching the phone over to speaker and tossing it on the pillow next to his head.

“You’re a fucking _asshole_ ,” Stiles grits out lovingly when he answers, voice a hushed whisper.

“Oh come on,” Derek purrs, “I know you’ve had fantasies about getting off in the library.”

He hears a loud thunk, is pretty sure it’s Stiles’ head hitting the table. “You’re the worst,” he breathes happily.

“Well then, I guess I won’t tell you what else I’ve got planned for you when I get home.”

Derek hears some rustling and the distinct sound saliva hitting skin, has to squeeze the base of his own cock to stop from coming at the thought of Stiles spitting into his hand to slick himself up. “Tell me,” Stiles whines, sarcasm all gone. 

It’s silly, really, how proud that makes him feel.

When he’s calmed down enough, he returns his hand to cock, tugging softly on his foreskin, eyes closed. He settles his hips into the bed, getting more comfortable. He drops his voice low, thinking about how Stiles always kinda shivers and shakes when he whispers huskily into his skin.

“After I crawl under that table to lick and suck you until you’re dripping, until your gorgeous balls are twitching in my mouth, I’m going to put your cock back in those damn khakis and zip you up so I can take you home and fuck you properly.”

“Oh my god,” Stiles breathes, voice cracking a bit.

"Gonna make you walk through the library, all the way across campus with your dick dripping in your pants, me next to you with my mouth red and raw, everyone knowing that I'm lucky enough to get to suck your cock."

“Fuck, _Derek_.”

“Show me,” Derek pants, his voice cracking a bit now too. “Show me how good you look right now.”

He hears some shifting and rustling, scrabbles for the bottle of lube while he waits, lets his knees fall open wide. He’s too impatient to take it slow, just shoves one slick finger in all the way to the second knuckle, groaning hard at the burn, hoping Stiles can hear him.

Stiles has sent another snap, a video this time. Derek pushes his finger in farther as he watches the video with his other hand. There’s no caption, just ten glorious seconds of Stiles’ spit-slick dick, his long, clever fingers teasing at his head, drawing out shiny precome before sliding down his shaft just as the video times out.

Now it’s Derek’s turn to swear, dropping the phone back to the pillow so he can stroke himself, pushing a second finger against his entrance.

“You like that, big guy,” Stiles murmurs in hushed tones.

“When I get you home,” Derek picks up where he left off. “I’m going to strip you bare and lay you out on your stomach, put my mouth all over you. Spread you wide and lick into you, stretch you open with my tongue before giving you my fingers so I can get my mouth back on your cock.”

“Wanna see you,” Stiles pants, starting to sound a little wrecked. 

Derek tears the hand away from his dick to grab the phone, starts to snap a pic, but then changes his mind, heart pounding a bit. He’s no stranger to taking a dick pic, but he’s never taken a pic like this before. It takes a few awkward tries to get the angle right, but soon he’s satisfied with a video snap of his hand, two fingers shiny with lube as they slide slowly in and out of his hole. **Your fingers are better**.

He’s back to stroking his cock, faster now, when he hears Stiles’ muffled gasp through the phone. “Oh fuck,” he utters. “So close, Der…”

“I can’t wait to taste you again, see how far I can swallow you down. You’re going to fill my mouth with come while my fingers are deep inside of you, fucking into you.”

Stiles is just panting now, low little grunts spurring Derek on. He fucks harder into himself with his fingers, wishing he had brought his dildo, missing Stiles’ cock so achingly bad it makes him a little dizzy. He strokes himself harder too. “I’m gonna spit your hot come into my hand, use it jack off like I am right now…fuck, Stiles…I’m going come, wanna come all over you –"

His hips snap up, toes curl hard into the mattress. He cries out as he pours across his belly, body throbbing, clenching around his fingers as if they were Stiles’ cock.

“Oh god, did you just come?”

“Yeah…you gonna come for me now, baby?” He doesn’t recognize his own voice, has never heard himself sound so tender and raw. Moving quickly, he wipes his come from his stomach and snaps a pic of himself licking it from his hands, eyes wide, teeth biting into his thumb. **Yours tastes better.**

“ _Derek_.” His voice fades away as he moves to check the snap. Derek smiles in anticipation, sticky had reaching down to cup and rub his balls, the other holding the phone to his ear, wanting to hear Stiles come up close, as close he can.

“Oh _fuck_ you’re so pretty after you come,” Stiles whines loudly, much more loudly than he should in the library, no matter how late it might be. Derek laughs, blissed out and buzzing with happiness.

He can’t help but wonder if Stiles is going to try and catch his come in his hand or if he’s going just go for it and unload all over the dirty library carpet, can’t decide which one he wants more. Stiles goes silent for a second before grunting deeply, breathing uneven and sharp. Derek closes his eyes, smiles.

“Holy shit, dude,” Stiles pants a bit later. “You…you’re…oh my god I can’t believe I just came all over the floor of the fucking library.” He’s laughing, a rich, melodic sound, and Derek drinks it in, intoxicating as the sound of his orgasm.

“Show me,” he whispers.

It’s an impressive white puddle, already starting to soak into the carpet. **you're fucking right hot nerd alert.**

Yeah, they’re going to handle road trips just fine.   

**~*~**

Stiles is in the stadium parking lot sitting on the hood of his Jeep when the bus rolls in Sunday night, clad in rarely-worn jeans and one of Derek’s team hoodies. It’s a little too big through the shoulders on him, making him look cozy and soft in the pale evening light. Derek doesn’t run to him, but he does drop his bags carelessly by the front tire and wrap his hands in the soft maroon cotton, yanking Stiles towards him and kissing him deeply, urgently, smiling into his lips as he scrambles in surprise, hands clanging loudly on the Jeep as he tries to steady himself.

There’s a loud whistle behind them, followed by several playful hoots and hollers. “Yeah, Hale,” Isaac calls out. “Get it, three-two,” shouts another, his catcher Dylan, he thinks. He understands their excitement, the surprise in their voices. Derek’s never been much for public displays of affection. 

Stiles pulls away, laughing. “Get me to your bed, now,” he orders, pressing their foreheads together, cheeks pink and hot under Derek’s tape-wrapped fingers. “You have some promises to keep, nerd.”

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up: I'm contemplating a part four with some light jealousy and a double dildo. ;)
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumbllllrrrrrr](http://deleted-scenes.tumblr.com/)


End file.
